The Darkness of Twilight
by ChibiHezaa
Summary: Ilosovic Stayne has nothing but time on his hands, and nothing but revenge in his heart.M/F. Non-Con. Please read and review
1. Prologue

_Warnings: Dark, OOC, hate!sex, tangent. This is my first fanfiction ever so please feel free to give me feedback regarding content, grammar, and/or what you'd like to see in future chapters._

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The elongated figure of Ilosovic Stayne the former Knave of Hearts, haunted the Outlands of Underland. His slumped shadow stretching out in the perpetual twilight. The hidden sun staining the horizon blood red hues that starkly contrasted against his dark silhouette. Purple shades of night blending in with the red and orange as the indifferent moon hung ominously in the starless sky.

He wandered the distance of barren land with a broken manacle on his right wrist. A dull ring of metal clashing with metal as the thick band struck against his beaten and tarnished armor. The constant sound his only companion ever since his partner in shackles, the Queen of Hearts had passed away from despair. His sour attitude and unwillingness to make their paired fate pleasant for her drove her quite mad. Her being withered long before her husk of a body would break down into dust. Breaking the chains with a rock, he left her lifeless form to rot miles and miles ago.

Ilosovic marched on with leaden feet, a mere wraith of his former self. The fire in his heart still burning brightly with each step. The only thoughts that occupied his mind were that of his revenge. The White Queen, the Hatter, and little Alice, he would make them all pay dearly for what they had done to him. Violent visions swirled in his head as he dreamed both awake and asleep. The never ending twilight of the Outlands made time even more irrelevant to his living death. Dead while living, waiting to be born again in a baptism of blood, his life would begin again as soon as theirs came to an end.

The once apathetic subjects of the lazy White Queen would know fear and terror for the first time. Their once fair ruler would be strangled by his own bare hands and her corpse would forever mark entry to the inner court yard. A reminder to all that at any moment they could be next. A fetid cloud of anxiety would haunt their tiny little minds as he slowly satisfied his inner most desires. The thought of tenaciously torturing the tiring Tarrant, the terribly Mad Hatter till the end of time made his breath quicken.

A dark chuckle escaped his smirking lips as his mind once again conjured up his as of yet unrequited revenge against the golden haired bratling in particular. He had never imagined that frail and delicate little girl would have destroyed the Jabberwocky, and in one well placed slice of a sword bring everything he had worked towards to a most bitter end. If only he had taken advantage of the girl named "Um," if only he had acted on his instincts. He would still be the right hand man of an empire, and little Alice would be nothing more than his play thing.

He would make a doll of her, the White Queen's terrified court would all watch. Watch as he destroyed all of her muchness, claiming it for himself. Her quivering white flesh openly displayed as black metal chains would drip from her neck and wrist shackles, pooling together at her equally trapped feet. The porcelain of her back marked with an "S"-shaped brand. Swollen bites would be scattered about her body, garish reminders to her and all who beheld her that she was nothing but his whore.

Sharp, short, and shrill noises would escape those pouty lips of hers as Stayne would forcefully take her again and again. The inner light gone from her eyes as her right mind would eventually escape to a safe internal place. A place she could imagine it all wasn't happening, deny how he contaminated her soul, refuse the truth of her soiled body. He'd use pain to bring her back from her pathetic reverie. A slap, a bite, a light crack of a riding crop would force her to face the situation. The shame and humiliation freshly blooming on her face as his member spread his seed over her beaten face and body. Caked with his essence, dripping with the sweat, saliva and tears of their shared copulation; she'd walk the halls a phantom of her once proud and haughty self.

The sound of a not too distant bird shattered Stayne's clandestine dream, alerting him to a break in the scenery. The flora and fauna of Underland filled his vision, as he stepped closer and closer to obtaining his retribution. The dirt and rock beneath his dusty boots soon replaced by twigs and moss. Breathing in the scent of the woods, Ilosovic stifled the images burning inside him.

"All in due time…" Stayne whispered to the wind. As his towering frame straightened with new found purpose. His stride lengthening as well as his cruel glittering smile.

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_to be continued._


	2. Chapter 1

_When I wrote the first part I was just doing stream of consciousness. With this chapter I had more of a plan. I'm not sure if the style of writing is less poetic due to me actually having a point to reach, so let me know if this chapter does not have the flavour of the last! And of course if that is a distracting and bad thing. X.X_

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The heavy smell of moist greenery filled Stayne's nostrils as he awoke in the night. Night and day were back at their usual game of hide and seek in the forests of Underland. Creatures of the night called forth in the darkness, intimidating their prey and causing weariness in the hearts of less experienced travelers. Sitting upright, the hard-hearted Knave stretched his back against the sturdy oak tree he had sought refuge under as the never ending twilight of the wastelands faded into night. Gangly limbs reached up towards the forest canopy in a mock gesture of supplication as he forcefully shook the sleepiness from his form. His red-rimmed eye hardening as his took in his surroundings.

Dew droplets hanging from long overgrown shrubbery sparkled in the light of the waxing moon. Paleozoic blossoms thickened the air with musky pollens as their lazy vines twisted haphazardly amongst the trunks and branches of perennial trees. The density of the underbrush made a perfect home for all sorts of creatures. Whether hard, soft, prickly, or slippery, the collection of unseen creatures lurking just below the surface was unsettling enough to make a person's skin crawl. Creepy crawlies looking for fresh meat could paralyze and feast off the unwary traveler in a matter of moments. However, the red hot fury seeping out of Stayne's pores kept all beasts a respectable distance away. Palpable blood lust and the desire to destroy was etched into every sharp angle of his body.

Squelching the emotions from his face, the Knave abruptly stood and donned a nonplussed demeanor. Casually he began a steady gait across the forest floor, pausing occasionally to peer into the thicket. The solitary icy blue eye obviously seeking something within the twinkling darkness, despite his deliberate aura of apathy. This curious pattern continued on till he had crossed the span of hours and miles. Then he stood as still and silent as a statue. Stayne seemed almost surprised to have found what he had been painstakingly looking for in the dark hours of morning. He tilted his head curiously as a smirk bloomed on his face. The corners of his mouth dragged upward to reveal his red tongue rubbing over sharp white teeth. Eye rolling back into his head as he took a slow and deep breath, then fast as lightning he struck in between two entwined willow trees.

A sharp high pitched cry rang out as Ilosovic's hand pulled away from the trees with a small female creature grasped firmly in his grip. A tiny wood sprite thrashed at his fingers. Her puny cries however high-pitched did not travel far in the dense woods. Pathetically trying to pry herself away she bit and kicked at his black gloved hand. All too soon her sense of fight dissipated and terror sunk in. When she finally gazed at the man holding her the wind was knocked from her lungs. The feared Knave of Hearts, who on a good day was a nightmare to any that stood in his path. All those who had stood against his now former liege met hideous ends. The villainous glint in his eye was all the assurance she needed that his practices had not changed despite the loss of his status and station as the right hand man of a Kingdom. Nervously biting her lip, she waved the proverbial olive branch, "Good morn, Sir Stayne, what might you ask of me?"

"Tell me, Wood Sprite, tell me of the White Queen," He breathed with quivering anticipation. This was a game he played often in the Court of the Queen of Hearts. A game that no one but he could win. Demolishing pride and self-worth through physical pain was a forté of Ilosovic's. His passion for the subject crossing over to the border of fetish as his body readied in excitement. Losing a bit of his composure, he let a free hand brush down his torso in slow circular motions, stopping to rest at on his hip.

"I...I know nothing of Queen Mirana!" She said far too hastily and shakily to be believable. Stayne gripped her tighter, causing her to cry out. He brought his free hand up to caress her face as his eye dominated her vision. Bending slightly at his waist, his dark tendrils of hair blocking out the light of dawn peaking through the thick forest.

"I wish I could believe you, Little Sprite, I really wish I could. I also wish I did not have to do _this_ in order to get you to speak the truth.." With that Stayne's fingers dug into her back, pulling out her iridescent wings at their root as easily as one would pluck out a hair.

A blood curdling noise erupted from the Sprite's widely opened mouth as she twisted and writhed in agony. Tears streamed down her cheeks as the Knave patiently looked down at her, his face an impassive slab of stone carved into a cruel and harsh face. He waited till her cries died out and her body no longer squirmed in his death grip then he tried questioning her again.

"Now, dear little Sprite, tell me what you know of the goings on at the White Court, or I will rip your body in twine without using my hands," he threatened as he licked hungrily at his lips. The game was going wonderfully, this small taste of vengeance was just a appetizer to his meal of malice and mayhem. A precursor to his penultimate punishment of the White Queen's pathetic palace of plebeians posing as the elite.

Those dazzling displays of vapidity did not deserve to live in such luxury. They would all work their hands to the bone in his service, rebuilding an empire in his name. This world would be his, and all those in it would serve his every whim. The once white walls of Mirana's castle would be stained red with the blood of his enemies. The blonde haired bitch from the Upperland would be chained to his throne and trained to be his faithful lap dog. Orally receiving his seed with his hand tangled in her hair, forcing her head to bob back and forth on his throbbing member. Pressing her down to the hilt until she gagged for air, tears would stream from her doe-like brown eyes. Copious amounts of white spunk would drizzle from her lips wrapped still firmly around his cock. If any drop were to hit the floor, he'd throw her to the ground and command her lick it up. Jerking himself hard and spilling another load as he watched, just to make her chore take longer.

The Sprite's words returned Ilosovic from his reverie, "The Alice is currently the superintendent of Queen Mirana's White Court as Mirana herself is rebuilding the Castle of Iracebeth of Hearts in her own image. Most of the court is there to aid her, but all of the champion's companions are with her. Even the Hatter stayed to be with her, and the Bandersnatch doesn't really like anyone else..."

This was all Stayne needed to know. Alice was by herself, save a few bumbling idiots. Dragging out his revenge would only make the pleasure more intense. A tantric dance of death waltzed without mercy. Pressing his thumb between the Sprite's breasts, Stayne slowly crushed her ribs and snapped her spine in half. The clear snap rippled through the woods as silence hung in the air. No creature stirred, no wind blew, as if the forest itself held it's breath in shock. His wanton path of indiscriminate death caused a rippling hush throughout the land.

Ilosovic dropped her body at the base of the entwined willow trees, his eyelid drooping as he moaned with pent up lust. So many more bodies to punish, each torment better than the last. All of Underland would tremble at the mention of his name, his reign far more oppressive and impressive then the spoiled and lazy Queen of Hearts. Ilosovic looked forward to further dirtying his hands as he turned from the twisted willow trees and started off in the direction of the White Court.

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_Please let me know what you think! 3_


	3. Chapter 2

_Please feel free to comment on this chapter. Your comments mean so much to me! SRSLY, Feelin' the love and it feels so good, so very good. Also don't be afraid to point out grammatical errors, plot holes or overall suckage._

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The overtly opulent opal spires of The White Queen's domain pierced the crisp blue morning sky. Unfiltered sunlight laid the land bare, plain, vulnerable. The stark white outer walls harshly reflecting the suns rays into Stayne's narrowed eye. The lush forest surrounding the White Court provided an excellent vantage point with which to survey the parameter of the walls. The main thoroughfare being the only entrance not entombed in the overgrowth of foreboding woods. Ancient withering trees pantomiming ladders with their gnarled branches stacked close enough together for Ilosovic's long spidery legs to gain purchase. In a flash like black lightning the Knave mastered the twenty-five foot climb to perch between the white teeth-like protrusions of the outer barricades.

Listlessly his unblinking eye scanned for any movements within the confines of those damnable walls. Nothing bipedal had been seen in the outer portions of the virtually lifeless court all morning. Distant sounds implied a limited amount of morning activities taking place. Nearly an hour of faint bangs and clatters suggested the March Hare was hard at work in the kitchens. The sporadic cackles of the Mad Hatter and his equally insane allies grating on his nerves despite the distance. Punctuating their murmur of conversation was the tinkling bell of a girl's giggle. Soft sounds of a woman echoed across the distance bringing a dark smile to Stayne's face. The girlishly blunt speech patterns however faint where obviously traceable to the source of Ilosovic's most morbid obsessions.

Tarrant's presence would be essential to properly torment the real Alice, and so deliciously would the vice versa. He'd feed off their mutual disgust and fear as he tore the bonds between them to shreds. Chained across from each other in the dungeons, Stayne would make his way passively back and forth between his two captives. Doling out physical punishments in whatever fashion suited his whims. He rather preferred the idea of whipping the Hatter within an inch of Death's door. Whereas Alice's reward for Ilosovic's banishment and suffering would be ripe with humiliation and titillation. The Hatter would watch Alice's fall from grace as her mind would languish in the throes of physical pleasure blended with copious amounts of pain.

Stayne followed the path to the gate house for the drawbridge, finding it blissfully devoid of any sentry. Those Frabjous fools further nailing themselves into their own coffins. So unsuspecting in their victory that fateful day that they assumed they need no longer be on the alert for unscrupulous characters such as himself. Naturally he found the key to the chambers hiding the windlass hanging adjacent to the small wooden door he sought. Crouching to fit inside the door, Ilosovic swiftly sabotaged the series of pulleys and leavers to ensure the drawbridge would never be lowered again. Flames would pave his exit when he finally would leave the court. The heavy wooden planks would be the first to burn as he galloped away with his prey, the lovely Alice. Her punishment drawn out before her enabling her to see the destruction of all her efforts. As well as live quite a bit longer than those maddening fools and their obnoxious little games surrounding their tea ceremonies.

The most viable of exits having been removed, the Knave followed the inner bailey and deftly crept into the nearby stables. With the vast majority of the court gone there were only two sturdy horses to be found. Dust mites and a few stray horse flies flitted about the spacious room as Stayne calmly approached the weaker of the two beasts of burden. A fair and gentle creature chosen specifically for the fair and gentle Alice, nothing more than a show of a horse. Yet another sign of the weakness in excess the court lavished on their chosen heroine. A pretty and meaningless thing that the Knave could not help but loath. Gently pulling down it's feed back, Ilosovic sprinkled the withered leaves of wild cherry trees into it's feed. With a knowing smirk he caressed the creature as he secured the bag in place. The deadly arsenic would slowly but surely poison Alice's steed to death as it ate it's way to oblivion. The larger and more respectable beast earned a scratch behind the ear as Stayne gave it a genuine pat of approval.

Settling into the most heavily shadowed stall of the stable, Stayne watched and waited. The sun's constant illusion of movement stretching the shadows along the ground as the poisoned horse desperately tried to shake off the effects of the poison to no avail, finally hitting the ground with a substantial thud. Ilosovic's eye glistened in the murky light as the sun finally surrendered to the moon. The pale purple cloak of twilight draped the castle in its hauntingly sad indifference. The slowly building crescendo of night birds and crickets chirping was suddenly silenced as Stayne moved from his unblinking rest. The night's chorus slowly started back up as it welcomed his unsettling presence as one of their own. The indefatigable sense of purpose oozed from every confident step the Knave took toward the open courtyard.

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With a surprised and apologetic start, the Maddest of Hatters awoke to the sound of his very own snoring. Having spent the entire day celebrating with the March Hare and the Dormouse they had merrily sipped on tea that had been mixed heavily with cooking sherry. Tarrant had fallen asleep inside their favourite gazebo hidden within the inner courtyard. The dazzling white architecture watered down by the fiery red vines that climbed the quaint structure and continued to take over the South East minaret-like towering spire. Having been overtaken by the Hatter and his messy associates, the gazebo was a disjointed collection of tea cups, tea pots, as well as biscuits and cakes of all manner and all states of decomposition. Tarrant had picked this location not just for how well the surroundings suited his own orange untameable tresses, but for its proximity to his dear and lovely Alice. A holler or a shout would have her promptly peeking her pixie-like smile upon his pitiful self from her picturesque window in the vertigo-inducing height of the South East tower.

Brushing his blush-worthy thoughts aside, Tarrant rubbed the weariness and bleariness from his eyes and looked about. A visage greeted him that he dreaded to ever see again. The otherwise towering frame of the Knave of Hearts knelt on the table directly in front of the Hatter. The cold grim look in his piercing blue eye drained the cheer from Tarrant's previously content face.

"Oh, it's you," he breathed in frustrated disbelief. Before the Hatter could reach for the empty bottle of cooking sherry at his feet, the Knave leapt into action. Black gloved hands wrapped around pale neckerchief covered flesh. Stayne's thumbs digging slightly into Tarrant's trachea as long fingertips brushed the back of his skull. The momentum of these actions causing the two to tumble to the ground as the Knave mercilessly straddled his victim. Hot breath nearly dripping saliva unto Tarrant's face as Stayne closed the distance between them.

"Yes, it is me, come to exact my revenge," Huskily Ilosovic breathed into the Hatter's face, unable to contain his hips from grinding into the smaller man beneath him. His will to dominate knowing no bounds. "Now say goodbye to everything you know and love..."

The violent blow of a gloved fist came as a slight surprise to the pinned and helpless Hatter. A few moments that felt like eternity as Stayne continued to pulverize the quickly tenderizing body beneath him. Knocking the wind from his lungs, and breaking bone after bone, Tarrant did his best to remain silent in some sad little way of trying to maintain an aura of control over his body. As well as not giving Stayne all the satisfaction from the beating he desired. The agonizing pain proved too much, as the Hatter's mind shut down to block out the ravages of Ilosovic's unyielding anger.

Pained shallow breaths hitched at the Knave's chest as he pulled back to view the reward of his efforts. Grimly satisfied with the ghastly sight beneath him, Stayne rose to his feet and lifted the limp figure of the Hatter to his shoulder. Turning to the cellars, the stoically silent yet lumbering figure made it's way to the dungeons. Impatiently taking a hanging lantern from the courtyard to light his way in the thick blackness of the cellar, his eye idly watched rats as they scampered away from the burning glow of wax and flame. The echo of his boots finally fading as he reached the furthest cell inside the makeshift prison.

Chaining Tarrant's limp body to the wall, Stayne turned on his heel and left the dungeons without locking the Mad Hatter's cell. The tightness of his trousers he could no longer ignore as he sought out the highest towering spire of the stark white castle. Leaving the Hatter to lavish in anguished thoughts of just what sort of fate might befall his darling precious Alice. The physical pain he might be able to ignore after the hours of pain gave way to an all over numbness. However, his own thoughts would eat away at him more so than gaping infested wounds and cellar rats ever could.

Reaching the courtyard now gently lit by the twinkle of a thousand stars, Ilosovic turned his head towards the tallest spire. There she waited, blissfully unaware of how trapped in a spider's web she was. Slowly he engaged his slow ascent to her inner most chambers. Humming quietly to himself, Stayne licked his lips with anticipation. Tonight's performance did not need an audience. Alice's torment was for his enjoyment alone on this night. Consummating his elaborate revenge with her tears and blood the binding ink on the contract of his eternal damnation. Knowing full well that his cruelty would never be forgiven, it mattered not, for he would gladly burn in the judgmental fires of hell with the satisfaction and bliss that he had acquired all that he desired in his lifetime.

Finally reaching the bulbous tip of the spire, Stayne forcibly broke the door off its hinges. The sudden sound of wood and metal twisting, snapping and splintering ripped Alice from her slumber and into the frightening jaws of reality. Brown-doe eyes stared unblinkingly as thin trembling hands clutched her bedsheets close to her barely clad bosom. With a mirthless grin and a swagger Stayne strolled into the room stopping at the foot of her bed. One steady hand reached down and in an equally swift manner, pulled the covers and sheets off the bed. Revealing her trembling body covered in a flimsy gown that left very little to the imagination. Eye never wandering from her petrified face, Ilosovic tossed the bed covers to the side and began to strip himself of his own coverings. Heavy gloves flopped on the floor as he finally broke her silence with words.

"Hello Alice..."

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_Oh yeahhhhhhhhhhhhh. Let me know what you think kiddos! I might go back in a fix it up when I have more functioning brain matter_


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